a list of trouble makers

It is difficult to explain the excitement I felt when I saw Nick Offerman had written a book about people he considers to be American heroes… and that he narrates the audio book himself. As one of the stars of a tv show I adore, “Parks and Recreation,” Offerman plays the gruff, Libertarian director of the local Parks department in a small town in Indiana. I knew little about him as a person when I began the book, but quickly learned that Offerman has a great deal in common with his character on the show, Ron Swanson (whose memes on the Internet bring me joy on a regular basis).

In “Gumption,” Offerman describes the qualifications of 21 individuals that he posits display courage in their lives, therefore deserving the attention and respect of himself and his readers. The list begins with some of our nation’s founding fathers, and he describes some well-known and other lesser-known stories about greats like George Washington and James Madison. Each individual also gets a nickname, such as “The Orator” (Frederick Douglass) and a history-lesson-style approach to who they are and why they matter. Some of my favorite chapters featured Wendell Berry and Tom Laughlin.

Offerman applies his humorist tendencies, especially to the “old white guys” that he blames for messing up our country with poor, selfish choices. He values human decency and an equal playing field for all, which means he frequently reminds the reader about all the times America as a country has foundered in its fairness, such as the internment of Japanese citizens in World War II.

After the easy Founding Fathers selections, Offerman moves into less-obvious choices including Conan O’Brien, Frederick Olmsted, Michael Pollan and Jeff Tweedy. He strongly favors people who have the following interests: reading, writing, woodworking, and connecting with nature. Offerman finds many modern pursuits to be frivolous and doesn’t hesitate to say so, frequently.

I found the book to be very educational and laughed out loud in many places. I also re-wound some segments so I could write down a few quotes in my phone. Then I bought one of Wendell Berry’s books, and added some movies he described to my Netflix queue. I could have done without some of the crude jokes but hey… nobody is perfect. For one man’s candid and funny take on men and women who live(d) with courage and gumption, you’ll definitely be left with a smile on your face. 🙂

force of nature

Barbara Kingsolver does not disappoint, and her family-centered tale of butterflies, “Flight Behavior,” is no exception.

The author sets the scene in rural Tennessee, where young Dellarobia resides on a sheep farm that is manned by her husband and his parents. She raises their two young children and keeps house, restlessly, while their financial and social situations are in a constant state of flux. She is deeply unhappy when she comes across a massive swarm of butterflies on some farmland that was going to be sold to a logging company.

The story of the butterflies and Dellarobia (yes, it’s quite a name) are woven together and their motivations are explored in great detail as we learn how the young woman ended up married and living on a farm, under the thumb of her in-laws. She tells her story to a team of researchers who are attempting to glean why the butterflies chose this particular farm after their normal migratory destination in Mexico was destroyed.

One aspect of this tale that I found particularly intriguing was the sense of urgency behind decoding the butterflies’ migratory changes, while the people just slogged around in the status quo. Dellarobia and her mother in law, Hester, exchange some choice words in a few scenes while comparing reasons for dissatisfaction with their lives. They’re super slow to make any kind of change, however, while the scientists rush around and put in long, laborious hours to find out every single detail possible about the butterflies.

Kingsolver’s words are lyrical in their nature; while she is wordy each word is worth it. She adopts a down home, rural style of prose for this book, including this gem of an observation: “…But then, there was raising. That had to be taken into account. What could a doormat rear but a pair of boots?” She has a keen eye for description and applies that skill to both storylines – the perilous state of the monarchs as they fight for survival in a strange land, and the daily struggle of Dellarobia to accept her lot in life while aspiring for more. “Rebelliousness ran in families too, Hester told her. Everything ran in the genes, to be culled or preserved at will. ‘It’s no good to complain about your flock,’ she advised. ‘A flock is nothing but the put-together of all your past choices.'”

Compelling, concerning, and relatable, “Flight Behavior” may stay with you long after you put it down.

my top five

when it comes to making lists and ranking things, Nick Hornby’s “High Fidelity” is tops. it provides a wry and stark glimpse into the mind of an over-examiner.

main character Rob Fleming (I would describe him as the protagonist if he was more affable) owns a mostly failing record shop and lives an unremarkable life. in fact, the only thing remarkable about his life is how much of it is spent inside his own head. Rob and his employees / coworkers / friends spend entire days wasting time making lists – top five movies, top five episodes of TV shows, top five albums, top five songs about days of the week, etc. and eviscerating each other for their choices. so when his girlfriend Laura (oops!) leaves him, Rob sets out to prove a point: her break up doesn’t even make it into his top five.

epic burn.

as I read his reflections on the breakups that DID make the cut, I have to admit, I judged Rob a bit. then I thought, who doesn’t have similarly searing memories from high school and into adulthood? and so I softened before finding myself way too familiar with a lot of emotions being expressed by this male, British narrator. hm. Rob is an interesting character just because he is so busy thinking about the past that he hardly finds time to make new memories to ruminate about. is he a BAD guy? he could be, but I’m not convinced.

there is one particular page I mentally referred to as his confession page. on this page, Rob lists the top FOUR things Laura told a friend that made said friend leave Team Rob… not the usual Five things, because really only Four were necessary for him to convince himself that Laura’s friend would never again take up his cause for reunification. this section is truly critical in our opinion-forming process.

what do I like about our narrator? his passion about music. he reflects on whether sentimental music causes heartache. he has specific rules for creating the perfect mix tape (remember those?) he is on a mission to improve the record collection of everyone he encounters. he’s also fallible in very relatable ways, whether the reader is happy about it or not. in one of my favorite sections, he evaluates the record collection of a man whose wife just found out he is cheating, and decides to sell the albums in his absence. the excitement about the collection’s value is tempered by his guilty conscience, and the resulting action says a lot about Rob and his priorities.

if you’re a music geek, read this book. if you spend too much time considering past relationships or worrying about the future or being stuck in mid-adulthood or basically taking stock of your life at ALL, read this book. if you like John Cusack, watch the movie. I’ll leave you with one of my favorite quotes, where Rob is describing the heartaches, breakups and entanglements of people he knows: “It’s just that none of us had the wit or the talent to make them into songs. We made them into life, which is much messier, and more time-consuming, and leaves nothing for anybody to whistle.”

Hogwarts Hiatus

It’s been awhile since I posted because I’ve been engaged in a very committed relationship with the Harry Potter series since July. I put down book seven exactly one week ago, at about one pm, and wondered what to do with my life now that I was done. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had become a part of my existence.. so I promptly borrowed some of the movies from friends 🙂

It’s difficult for me to begin reviewing a series that took the globe by storm so many years ago.. all I can hope to provide is the perspective of a person who had to be convinced to read it in the first place. I distinctly remember watching my friend Justine devour book seven with a singular determined attitude when we worked together at a fitness club in 2007. I was peeved because we usually enjoyed working shifts at the front desk together, making up games and joking around with the members. Not while she was reading “Deathly Hallows,” bent over the thick hardcover book she had just purchased, asking me to stop talking to her so she could concentrate.

Back when the series gained popularity, I took the snobby attitude that they were kids’ books. My friend at work told me that the first two are definitely kids’ books, but that they were worth the read. He also said that if I read the third book and maintained my opinion, he would finally relent about convincing me to read them. As a side note, he’s also bugging me incessantly about the “Game of Thrones” TV series, but I think that’s a losing battle for him.

So to get right down to it… “Philosopher’s Stone” and “Chamber of Secrets” were definitely children’s books. They were entertaining at a less advanced level than other kids books that I enjoy, such as the Hunger Games series. I see their purpose as dipping the readers’ toe into the water of the wizarding world, especially the language. Once I got into “Prisoner of Azkaban,” which explores Harry’s place in wizard lore and the backstory of the tragic death of his parents, I was hooked. It was DARK. This kids’ series had gotten into my brain and I was angry that such evil existed in the happy world I was immersed in during the previous two books… it’s almost the equivalent of how terrible things become for the happy band of travelers in “Lord of the Rings” after they start out so joyful and carefree on the shire. Nick was right. I was totally into the story.

As our hero transitions from a child of 11 to a young man, he goes through the typical pains of adolescence in the public eye. With my journalism background I was particularly riled by the lack of values and transparency exhibited by the “news” publications that featured Harry and the rise of the evil Lord Voldemort. As Harry tries to navigate the waters of life and school as a famous teenager whose role models and favorite teachers are being persecuted as they attempt to protect him, he exhibits some selfish and reckless behavior. It was easy to stop liking him, and yell “Come on, what are you doing?” to the character in the book. Hey, he’s a wizard. Maybe he heard me. After I reached a certain spot in “Half Blood Prince,” it was easy to see him shake off his childish life view and begin to accept what can only be described as his fate. There are so many parallels to draw to a noble hero, but he was still in his teens. The writing is incredible. The continuity of the story lines is downright beautiful. And as I picked up “Deathly Hallows,” book seven, I paused. I hesitated. I knew our hero’s story would end, and I didn’t want it to. I knew that with the end of that book would come the pain of the story being over.

To anyone who was a Harry Potter holdout like me, this may sound dramatic. Too over the top. I assure you, as an avid book lover and voracious reader, that it is not exaggerated. I absolutely loved the series and can’t wait to read it again from the beginning. Of course, I’ve had other books pile up in the past few months. Maybe Harry and I can get back together around Christmas (I’ll ask Santa for the series) so I can better appreciate the smart, entertaining, satisfying world of wizards created by J.K. Rowling even more.

a little kindling

The nature of female relationships is a terrifying thing.

In “How to Start a Fire,” Lisa Lutz takes on the friendship between three young women as they meet and form initial bonds in college and then move on with their lives. The result is an often poignant, sometimes tense, and consistently interesting, complex tale that truly engages the reader.

Let me start by saying I’ve been a fan of Lisa Lutz for years due to the Spellman series, which looks at a family of private investigators through the eyes of their 30-something, rebellious daughter with whom I identified a great deal while I was in my 20s (oh gosh. did i just admit in passing that i’m through my 20s??!?) Her books involve strong female leads and quick, page-turning segments that are tough to refer to as chapters. She also played a lot with font, asides, footnotes and narrator changes in the Spellman books.

The story of Anna, George (female) and Kate is told through a bunch of jumpy flashbacks as the women progress through marriages, children, career changes, and approach their 40s. They met as undergrads in California and have various levels of ambition as students, employees, daughters, wives, mothers, and even friends. The bonds between the three women ebb and flow realistically as the years pass, and illustrate that in some cases water is thicker than blood as they encounter tragedies both big and small.

The novel’s title comes from camping trips, which is a favorite pastime for Anna, the free spirited and deeply haunted girl who at one point decides she wants to live in a tent and nobody can dissuade her. Much to Anna’s chagrin, the best fire-starter in the group is George, the long-legged beauty whose need for love and affection makes her tragic in romance. Kate, the one who intended to simply pass time in college before taking over her grandfather’s diner, goes along for the ride (as she does in most things, because she is second place even to herself).

I’d like to point out a few things… 1) the book has VERY sharp dialogue. The language really does reflect how conversations would sound between the girls, their families, and other characters. 2) the characters are sometimes incredibly unlikeable people. in fact, their family members are some of my favorites, because they aren’t as well developed and therefore jerklike (Lutz doesn’t make any of the three well balanced). 3) if anyone reading this decides to pick up the book because they also read the Spellman series… this novel doesn’t share the happy, biting comedy that the author gave to Isabel Spellman. keep that in mind. 4) the timing of the book is distracting. forget about the month/year headings and just let the story develop.

So, with those thoughts in mind, if you want to dive into a novel that will keep you wondering  about it while it sits on your end table and you’re doing other things begrudgingly, go for it. I recommend it. Call a girlfriend when you finish it 🙂

a little perspective

“It’s What I Do” is a remarkable book by a focused, motivated young woman. Author Lynsey Addario guides us through her career as a news photographer for some of the most esteemed agencies in the world, including the New York Times and National Geographic.

Addario has faced seemingly insurmountable challenges and resistance in the countries in which she works due to a variety of reasons — cultural, religious, political and even geographic. She has been kidnapped, held at gunpoint, and smuggled through towns in the backseat of countless vehicles. Often forced to pose as the wife of a male journalist, she is refreshingly honest about reaching her emotional limits.

Her emotions–and especially her female outlook– are what make her work so approachable. Because I haven’t found myself in Syria, Libya, Afghanistan, or Iraq recently, I can’t say whether her assessment of the level of hostility toward Westerners in those countries is accurate. What I can say though is that she can capture the pain in a mother’s face, and the fear in a young woman’s eyes, in a single, haunting image. The same cross-cultural wisdom that gives her the ability to take those pictures lends itself to her writing, where she says it was hard to relate to most women in these countries because, through the language barrier, it was shared that she did not have children of her own.

The author’s love life actually has an impact on her work, because when she leaves the countries where she is on assignment it is usually to recharge and meet up with a significant others. The struggle of her loved ones (and those of her comrades) to relate to her in pursuit of her career advancement, and her higher goal of bringing the attention of decision makers to the plight of women and children in war-torn countries, is real. The reader truly begins to understand how difficult it is for the families and friends of journalists to view the sacrifices as worth it when the journalists themselves become targets for warlords and terrorist organizations.

Addario explained her motivation to risk her own life for her work in one of the more powerful statements in the book: “…something in me had changed after those months in Iraq. I was now a photojournalist willing to die for stories that had the potential to educate people. I wanted to make people think, to open their minds, to give them a full picture of what was happening in Iraq so they could decide whether they supported our presence there. When I risked my life to ultimately be censored by someone sitting in a cushy office in New York, who was deciding on behalf of regular Americans what was too harsh for their eyes, depriving them of their right to see where their own children were fighting, I was furious.”

The book is filled, of course, with carefully selected images. They are powerful photographs, able to draw you in and make you consider the big picture. Addario’s writing is passionate, graphic, and very relatable. If you are interested in history (military or otherwise), current events, journalism, or really the world around you… pick it up.

girls these days

This past weekend I hopped on the train out of center city Philadelphia and rode out to the suburbs. while seated I thought about snapping a selfie with the hashtag “i’m the girl on the train” but, that might be a bit creepy to those who understood the reference.

“Girl on the Train” is supposed to be the next “Gone Girl,” an eerie summer read with multiple narrators and a somewhat psychotic, devious female lead. That is a serious stretch, in my opinion, because I devoured the twists and turns and slowly unraveling tale of “Gone Girl”… but to me “Girl on the Train” dragged a bit, and lingered in all the wrong places.

The characters never seemed to come to life for me. Maybe some of it can be attributed to initial name confusion, or mixing up the seemingly happy couples of which our main narrator is jealous. Either way, once I got used to who the characters were and how they factored into the story, I still didn’t like them and I certainly didn’t relate to them.

Do you have to relate to characters in a novel to enjoy the book? Well, no. But you also can’t keep mixing them up (and really, all the one-syllable-named men and two-syllable-named women were easy to mix up because they weren’t very multi-faceted or compelling).

So, this isn’t much of a review because I don’t want to give away the plot. Suffice it to say that “Girl on the Train” was entertaining enough, and kinda creepy, but didn’t live up to my wild expectations based on hype.

start me up

This afternoon over lunch, my friend told us something amazing. “I wake up every morning to “this girl is on fiiiiiireee…”” she sang, laughing at her music choice.

“Well, my alarm is usually “Talk Dirty to Me,”” another girl admitted.

Needless to say, this sparked a pretty amazing conversation about the power of music in our morning routines.

I don’t recall ever setting a musical alarm, aside from just using a clock radio set to an FM station when I was younger. Currently I have a very intricate system of one alarm clock in a room that’s not my bedroom, plus staggered iPhone alarms of varying degrees of annoyance that go off throughout a 45 minute interval. I also don’t hit the snooze button, ever. Oddly enough it has never occurred to me that I could choose a happy or motivating song (or a terrible song that I am physically compelled to shut off) to start my day.

Based on my lunchtime chat, I’m in the minority. Other songs mentioned by friends? One Weird Al Yankovic tune, Katy Perry’s “Roar,” and “Turn Down for What,” which to me will forever be associated with the Phillies’ Ben Revere. When my friend was ridiculed for her music choice, she silenced us all with her response: “I haven’t missed a morning run in the past three weeks.”

Maybe I should wake up to the Rolling Stones tomorrow.

get carried away

it’s rare that I actually have to plow my way through a book. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what I was compelled to do with the highly-anticipated “Dead Wake.”

This WWI era, non-fiction thriller is at the top of all the lists except for mine (or so it seems). It follows the story of the Lusitania, the flagship passenger liner of the Cunard company based in Great Britain, on its fatal voyage from New York to Liverpool prior to the United States entering the war. Larson painstakingly takes readers on a journey as the ship is prepared, as the passengers come on board with their possessions, and as the ship heads into U-boat infested waters.

We are told of all the miscommunications, the stoicism of Cunard’s esteemed Captain Turner at the Lusitania’s helm, and the shrewd ruthlessness of Captain Schwieger, the German submarine captain who was terrorizing boats of all size and declared nationality in and around Ireland as the Lusitania left the safety of American territory. The build up to the two ships finally encountering each other could be enthralling, or, it could be tedious.

The characters on the Lusitania — many of whom were prominent American citizens, families with small children, and all of whom had great plans upon arriving in Europe — were certainly interesting. Larson gleaned much of his material from the survivors, giving us an inside look at the opulence of life on board and feelings of invincibility felt by the majority of passengers and crew.

I was overwhelmed by names. Passengers, crew, other boats, dignitaries and decision makers in various countries and at different levels of authority.. the names and facts were flying everywhere. The most enjoyable part of the story for me were peeks into Room 40, where British intelligence agents (who did not always report their findings to their own navy) were intercepting and monitoring messages monitored across the high seas. I also liked reading about how U.S. President Wilson was falling in love with his second wife and was very distracted as he did so, during this period in history.

Perhaps my lack of knowledge of naval procedure made this a tough read… perhaps it was the broad strokes used to depict so many people and stories instead of focusing on key players… or maybe I expected a page turner and was simply disappointed. The most accurate description I can give is to state that reading “Dead Wake” was much like watching “Titanic.” I knew the boat would sink, and I knew how, I just didn’t know it would take two hours worth of film (or in this case, over 200 pages) for it to happen.

the narrative

“In Cold Blood” has been described as ground-breaking, a book that opened the doors to the true crime world and ushered in a sensational era of real American horror stories. I’m thrilled to have read it, and found the questions it left behind are just as captivating as the parallel tales it wove together.

Truman Capote’s account of the murder of the Clutter family in small town Kansas in the late 1940s is truly chilling. While I have not seen either film based on his book (the critically acclaimed “Capote,” which focuses on the author himself and the research he conducted while writing “In Cold Blood” or the same-named movie, which starred Richard Blake), I had certainly heard of the famous book. The style is fascinating – all four members of the Clutter family are described, going throughout their day, interacting with friends and loved ones, while the reader is constantly reminded that they are in their last day on earth. We are similarly introduced to other people living in town, and to the murderers, though we cannot know their relationship to the family, because it’s not explained until much, much later.

The killing occurs in excruciating detail. The small, wholesome town is thrown into chaos. The murderers escape and head to Mexico. And, maddeningly, we still don’t know the motive.

Capote sets the scene with amazing detail, for instance, entire conversations between business people in Holcomb and nearby Garden City are recounted. So, how did our faithful narrator bring these scenes to life? That is where the book, and the method, make you wonder.

It’s natural to think that, in order to paint the complete portrait of the Clutter family (and all of the characters, for that matter), Capote took some liberties with dialogue. But how do we connect those liberties with a TRUE crime book? Did Capote have an agenda? There are allegations that Capote was way too involved with Hickock and Smith, the murderers, and that he may have even had a relationship with Smith that extended beyond research.

Smith and Hickock’s lives are examined in detail, from their childhoods to their criminal pursuits. We hear what transpired in the six weeks between the Clutter murders and the killers’ apprehension, we are flies on the wall during their interrogations, we inhabit Death Row with them, and we are present for their hangings. Over the entire course of justice being served, there is a pall – the “why,” once answered, is futile.

What I found downright fascinating was not the bloody details, or the down-home town being terrified. It was that I knew who died, and who killed them, and that they were brought to justice.. and there was still a compulsion to read. There was still a mystery, a driving force. That force the sheer story-telling skill of Capote – the true star of the book.

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